Dead Roses still hold Beauty
by Fenrisulfr
Summary: Many things still hold beauty even in death, the Cullens know this well being vampires. Yet when the daughter of Fork's police chief suddenly transfers to the school, they don't only get a rude awakening from their charade but are forced to confront feelings, philosophies and Creatures they might not be ready for. Who is Bella? Read n' find out. Rated M for future content.ON HIATUS


**_Dead Roses still hold Beauty_**

**Prologue**

Charlie Swan sat as usual in his favorite chair with a can of beer in his hand watching a football game. It was the same as almost every evening, though Charlie didn't have a problem with the obvious monotony of his life most of the time he found himself wishing some excitement to enter his life.

Going on fishing trips with his friends Billy and Harry from the La Push Reservation now and again gave him his fill of the outdoors and company of friends. On the other side the poker nights for the "big shots" from Forks police department, fire department and hospital filled his hunger for social interaction, drinking and gambling. Neither drinking or gambling were great passions for the police chief, but like many men he had no problem indulging now and again and the poker nights were only twice a month.

Yet as of late he had grown increasingly restless. He'd come to start growing annoyed with the so very stagnant life in Forks. And as he contemplated this, not really paying attention to the game or even his drink, he was jostled from his musings by a tapping on his window.

"Wha! What's this then? Who would be coming to me at this time in the evenin'? And why not use the front door?" Charlie grumbled to himself as he got up, muting the TV on the way.

As he moved towards the window he realized he must be further gone than he originally thought if he grumbled to himself like some caricature of an old grandpa. He didn't even have a child for Gods sakes! His ex-wife Renee had taken off and divorced his ass, in that order and he was still a little pissed about it, before that could happen.

Peering out the window revealed only the darkness of the night, the cloudy disposition of Forks bringing heavier darkness much earlier than it otherwise would arrive, even in the summer.

Suddenly a shape flew up in his face, on the other side of the glass and gave the window a peck, making him cry out and startled stumble backwards. When he had calmed his racing heart and gotten up to the window once more he saw a raven sitting on his windowsill, holding what looked like a scroll in its beak.

The middle aged police let the bird in, suspicion beginning to grow in his guts, distant memories beginning to churn in the back of his head. The bird wasted no time gliding in through the opening and landing on the floor, starting to shake its wings and tail feathers dry. The rain had been pouring for more than half a week straight now, and while the local wildlife was used to their habitats wetness the raven was not a local.

Charlie could have sworn on his mother's grave that the bird looked at him with an accusing and disgusted look, as if it were blaming him for the weather, or perhaps forcing it to come to this part of the world. It dropped the scroll on the armrest of his chair as it jump-flew up there only to continue to the crown of horns on his mounted deer head. There it turned and cried out at him, as if to urge him to investigate the strange scroll.

Charlie's suspicions were now screaming in his head, yet he decided that this were too important an issue to make any move on before he had facts. So he walked up to his chair, glanced at the raven only to find the bird following his every move with rapt attention, and sat down. As his hand landed on the scroll he registered that not only were it not paper, but most likely papyrus though he had only ever heard of the material, it was dry as a dessert despite being transported through the rain in the beak of a bird.

"Could it be?" The law enforcement officer mumbled into the room. As if to answer him the raven gave a single cry that rang out in the house.

Charlie held up the scroll to see it sealed by a sigil in wax, the image jogging his memory further. When he broke it he thought he heard a sigh echo in the house, but paid it little mind and unraveled the parchment. As he read his eyes grew wider with every line, and much of it awoke memories he had long since forgotten.

After reading the last line he dropped the piece to the floor only to stare out into the room, into nothing. His mind a veritable warzone where his thoughts sought to bring order to the chaos, to process the information he had just partaken in. He looked up to the raven, still sitting on the antlers of his first kill, and found its previous black eyes replaced by a sort of icey blue fire with likewise colored smoke coming from both blazes. Not making a sound, not making a move, only watching him, the last line of the scroll echoing in his head, silencing all other thoughts:

_Young Charles, _

_I am coming_


End file.
